


Mind Over Matter

by Welfycat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Wolf Pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 03:39:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welfycat/pseuds/Welfycat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Going from Werewolf Hunter to human member of the local werewolf pack wasn't anything Chris had expected at this stage in his life, but there was something to be said for changing with the times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mind Over Matter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peroxidepest17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peroxidepest17/gifts).



> Written for peroxidepest17's fandom stocking.  
> Content Notes: Discussion of canon typical violence and reflection on canon minor character deaths.  
> Author Notes: A million thanks to emeraldsnakes for the last minute beta!

There were five werewolves in his kitchen and Chris hadn't even pulled the gun from the holster at the small of his back. More importantly he had no intention of pulling a gun, or reaching for the dagger strapped to his ankle, or even objecting to the fact that his daughter was holding hands with one of the werewolves. There was a flash in his mind, claws extending out of the fingers that were cradling Allison's hand, fangs and glowing eyes turning to where he was standing in the hallway, but he pushed that mental picture aside as he heard the small group break into laughter. He could see Allison's bright smile as she reached to swat Jackson's shoulder, Jackson grinning unrepentantly as the teens talked over each other and squabbled and joked.

Something about seeing his daughter smile, when not even a year ago he wasn't sure he'd ever hear her laugh again, shook loose the last of his misgivings and he stepped into the kitchen. The teens all greeted him with varying degrees of cheer, but no one flinched or acted like he was about to draw a weapon, and he greeted them in turn as he reached for a cookie from a batch that was fresh out of the oven.

"We're going to the new club tonight," Allison informed him. "Just waiting for Derek and Stiles to show up, because they're late."

Erica said something that Chris didn't quite catch but was the source of snorts of laughter from several of the teens.

Chris raised his eyebrows and took a second cookie. "Have fun and stay safe. Allison, your curfew is at eleven."

"Dad," Allison whined. "I'm almost eighteen and it's Saturday night."

"And I'm your father and you'll be home by eleven," Chris insisted. "I'm sure the rest of the pack has similar curfews."

Scott shrugged. "My mom wants me and Isaac home by midnight."

"Eleven," Erica admitted from where she was leaning against Boyd's chest. "But neither of my parents are home tonight so it's not like they'll know."

A glance in Jackson and Lydia's direction confirmed that they were likely in the same situation. One of the things Chris had never understood, could never understand, was how parents could let their kids roam free in the night knowing what was out there. Sure, most people didn't know about werewolves, but Chris had seen enough in his life to know that the human monsters could be worse than anything with claws and fangs. "Doesn't mean you don't all need to sleep tonight. I'm certain the Sheriff and Mrs. McCall would be happy to help enforce curfews."

Allison sighed. "We'll be home for our curfews. No need to get Stiles' dad all worried."

A car horn sounded a second later and the pack shuffled towards the door with calls of goodnight. Allison lingered back for a moment and wrapped her arms around Chris. "Be safe," he said.

"We will, I promise," Allison said. She didn't say it but Chris could see _'It's just a club'_ lingering on her lips. "I'll knock on your door when I get in."

"Eleven!" he shouted after her as she hurried from the kitchen, shaking his head as the front door slammed shut. The house felt oddly empty and silent with all of the kids gone and if Chris closed his eyes he could imagine that Victoria would be coming around the corner muttering about teenagers and asking where they were going to dinner. There were nights Chris still felt like a ghost haunting his own house and he took the last cookie from the plate and held it in his hand until the last of the warmth had faded.

There were two spiral notebooks left on the counter and Chris paged through math equations idly until he saw Erica's name written at the top of one of the pages. The second notebook was Allison's and he set both of them aside where Allison would find them before school on Monday morning. It should have been odd, it should have felt wrong, but Chris wasn't even slightly thrown off by having a werewolf leave her homework on his kitchen counter. Things had changed a lot in the last seven months and now that Chris was thinking about it, he wasn't sure where it had started.

The night that stuck out in his mind, the one he went to when he thought about werewolves in his house, was when he'd come home one evening in late September and heard voices upstairs. He'd followed the sounds to where light was spilling from Allison's bedroom and peered inside and felt his hand twitch towards his holster by pure reflex. The girls had all turned and Allison had stepped forward uncertainly.

"Dad, you know Lydia," she'd started, motioning in Lydia's direction. "And this is my friend Erica."

Chris had stared at where Erica was standing next to the side of Allison's bed, Erica's gaze uncertain and her posture wary, and Chris had breathed slowly as he remembered Allison shooting her. He remembered Erica's broken cries as he had made the decision to release her from where Gerard had held her and Boyd - where Gerard had tortured her and Boyd - in the basement that was two floors below where they stood now. "It's nice to meet you, Erica," he'd said, because if she could put aside being shot and tortured and still be Allison's friend, then the very least he could do was be polite.

"You too, Mr. Argent," Erica had said, relaxing marginally. Chris had nodded to the girls once more and walked away, 

From that point on Erica had been a semi-regular fixture at their dinner table, Lydia and Jackson joining them on occasion as well. It had taken a little longer for Scott to start coming by when Chris was around, and they were in the process of an uncomfortable reconciliation where Scott was still working through the fact that the Argent family had threatened to kill him - a lot - and Chris was still letting go of the idea that his daughter might ever have a normal life. Normal was long gone, for all of them now, and Chris had to wonder if it had merely been an illusion all along.

A ping from his cellphone let him know he had a text message. He pulled out his cellphone and wasn't entirely surprised to see that the sender was 'S. Stilinski' and that the message simply read _'9 pm'_. Chris sent a message back to let him know that he'd be there and then went upstairs to change into something more comfortable.

*****

It was five after nine when Chris received his drink from the bar and made his way through the crowd back to their usual table. Melissa and the Sheriff were already seated and there was an empty chair that they'd somehow saved for him. Chris supposed that having the Sheriff seated at the table had probably helped. He sat down, took a swig of his drink, and then looked at the pair of other parents who had wound up embroiled in this mess. "Clubbing?"

Melissa shrugged. "They'd go even if we told them they couldn't. At least this way we know where they are."

"It's a club that caters to under 21s, and the kids all know better than to drink in public," the Sheriff said as he swirled his own drink. "I got Derek's word that he would keep an eye on everyone."

Chris didn't even have to bite back a response about how he didn't hold much stock in the word of Derek Hale because every promise Derek had made to him, Derek had kept. Right before the final battle with the Alpha Pack, Derek had looked Chris in the eyes and said; "I'll do anything to keep them alive. That includes Allison." They had long been past explanations of why Derek had bitten Victoria and how Derek had saved Scott's life, and Chris had nodded and made the same vow as he rechecked his arsenal. That night he'd watched Derek get gutted by the leader of the Alpha Pack, wounds that Derek had only survived because his own pack had been strong enough to keep him alive through the early stages of the healing process until they could get to Deaton. So if Derek had given the Sheriff his word that the kids will be safe, Chris could accept that without too much trouble.

"Anything incoming?" Melissa asked, glancing out over the bar at a particularly loud cheer from a group of people gathered around a tv.

"Nothing that I've heard," Chris said, easing into the topic while maintaining an awareness of anyone showing their table too much interest. To anyone watching they should look like three single parents sharing their woes over a round of drinks, but Chris wouldn't be surprised if other Hunters were curious about the remains of the Argent clan, particularly after the decimation of the Alpha Pack two months earlier. 

It had actually been this very bar, this very table, where Chris and Melissa had talked to the Sheriff the night after that final battle with the Alpha Pack. The Hale Pack was busy licking its wounds, their Alpha still struggling to stay alive while the betas recovered. Chris had caught the Sheriff's arm after the battle and told him to meet him at the bar at nine the next night, if his questions could wait until then. The Sheriff had stared through him for a long moment before he walked away with Stiles loping along beside him; two humans that had just walked away mostly unscathed from a confrontation that by all rights should have seen all of them dead. That next night the Sheriff had walked in with Melissa at his side, had come to the table with a full bottle of scotch and three glasses, had poured them all a round, and then had said; "Talk, because it looks bad if I have drinks with you right before I arrest you."

Chris and Melissa had explained what they could in the hours before the bar closed, Chris covering general information about werewolves in general while Melissa filled in some of the specifics about their kids' involvement with the local pack. The Sheriff had turned his glass in his fingers, the bottom rolling in neat circles the same as he frequently did when they sat in the bar, and he had downed his entire shot in one go before pushing his glass away with a comment about how if he drank enough maybe he could forget everything he'd seen and heard in the past twenty four hours. Chris could completely empathize with that; if he could forget his wife dying in his arms, or the sight of his daughter aiming to kill and maim with hate in her eyes, he would without a second thought.

And then the Sheriff had done something that had caught him completely by surprise. He'd said: "So what do we do now?"

"What do you mean?" Chris asked, more than a little wary. If the Sheriff was planning on going public with the whole werewolf thing, well, Chris had to stop him by any means necessary. Sure, the Sheriff would wind up coming across as crazy, like he'd finally gone off the rails after a long trail of murders over the past year. But, there were some that would believe it, enough that it would draw a lot of attention from the Hunter communities. There was plenty of evidence for werewolves once people were looking for it - he knew for certain that displays of superhuman strength were commonplace at the high school and howls echoed from the woods too often for his comfort - and if anyone higher up in the Hunter echelons came to Beacon Hills with public reports of werewolves it would spell death for all of them.

The Sheriff had looked to Melissa and Melissa had nodded as she caught onto the idea. "They'll never be safe, will they? The threats will just keep coming; Hunters, other packs, creatures that we haven't even heard of, right?"

"Yes," Chris had agreed before he even had to think. He knew there were packs that lived for generations without seeing any of the death and destruction that had visited the Hale Pack in the past seven years, but he did know that once it started, it didn't stop until they'd gained a reputation as being unbeatable. And then the Hunters would descend. There could be no peace, just the moments they could carve out in between battles.

The Sheriff had nodded solemnly. "Then we need to be prepared. We need a plan. Because what I saw last night will not happen again. Not if we can stop it."

Chris thought that it was maybe with those words, as they leaned in to outline the most likely threats and what they could possible do about them, that he became less a werewolf Hunter and more a member of a wolf pack - although at the time he couldn't have thought of it that way. At that moment he just wanted to do what he could to keep himself and his daughter alive, and keep the rest of the kids alive and out of the line of fire if he could.

*****

He would like to say that he didn't know how he wound up hosting Thanksgiving dinner and inviting the McCall's and the Stilinski's, but that would be a lie. The tail end of the conversation he had overheard, Allison and Stiles standing on the front steps as Allison explained that she didn't know what they were doing for Thanksgiving that year. Stiles' voice was low as he said that he understood, and that the first year after everything they had been invited to the McCall's for the holidays and that he'd check with his dad and see what their plans were. Allison had paused for a long moment and her voice had wavered as she said that she wanted to spend the holiday with her dad and at home, and Chris had stepped forward and opened the door the rest of the way because the whole conversation was making his chest ache.

"We're having Thanksgiving dinner here," he had told both of them, resting his hand on Allison's shoulder before he looked to Stiles. "You and your father are invited, as are the McCall's. Please pass along the message."

Stiles had looked doubtful for a moment, his eyebrows quirking at Chris, but when he spoke it was with surprisingly little sarcasm. "Scott and Isaac too?" he'd asked, the words both a test and a challenge.

"Scott and Isaac too," Chris had said and then glanced up towards the setting sun. It had still been two days before the full moon, and Stiles was a member of the Hale Pack, but it still set Chris on edge. "You'd better get home before your father sends deputies out looking for you."

Stiles had waggled his head, but had hopped down the front steps without complaint, pausing at the last minute to turn back to thank him for the invitation and that he'd let his dad and Melissa know.

So, two weeks later, Chris supposed he had no one to blame but himself when he had five extra people gathered in his house as he put the finishing touches on Thanksgiving dinner while Allison entertained their guests in the living room. Both Melissa and the Sheriff had poked their heads in to see if they could do anything to help, but Chris had shooed them back out because he set up every kitchen he'd had in the same way and couldn't bare to have someone who didn't know the layout equally as well bumping elbows with him. Not this year.

The meal went surprisingly smooth, all of the kids polite and talking easily about topics ranging from school and lacrosse to the latest in pack politics and their concerns about the envoys from the pack to the territory directly to the north of the Hale territory. It made all of the kids uneasy that the nearby pack had waited until after the Alpha Pack had retreated to make contact, and while Chris agreed he also knew that it would take a blood alliance for one pack to come to the rescue of another when there was an Alpha Pack involved.

"An allied pack would do a lot to tell other packs in the area that you mean business. It would establish you as a respectable pack, not a mess of bitten wolves who don't know their toes from their tails," Chris said when the conversation came back around to him. "I'm not saying that you should leap into this without looking at the motives of their pack carefully, but I don't think we can afford to dismiss it out of hand. Other packs will have to think twice about encroaching on Beacon Hills if they know there's more than one pack they'll have to answer to as a result."

"Would other Hunters know about their pack?" Scott asked suddenly. "Like, whether they've been involved in anything major over the past few years, or if they're causing trouble in their own territory?"

Allison perked up. "There's a Hunter stationed near there, isn't there?"

"Harte has been up there for about five years now. She and Malachi have had things in hand so I doubt anything big has gone down, but I can put out feelers and see what comes up," Chris offered, knowing full well he had just willing gave the names and locations of werewolf Hunters to a pair of werewolves who themselves had been Hunted. He felt the slightest flash of worry, his mind imagining Harte and Malachi dead in the night, but he looked to where Isaac and Scott were cutting into the pies with Stiles and Allison and set that image aside. It was probably wrong to even think _these wolves are different_ \- he'd been told time and again that there were only humans and werewolves - but here he was passing a plate to Scott with a genuine smile on his face as he requested a slice of the key lime for himself.

Thirty minutes later, when they had all eaten to the point of no return and had retreated back into the living room, Chris excused himself to put away some of the food into the fridge and to pack up plates of leftovers for the Sheriff and Melissa to take with them. With his hands full with the platter of turkey Chris stepped into the kitchen and paused when he saw the refrigerator door open and someone bent down inside.

Isaac poked his head up, his eyes wide, and he backed out of the fridge with a glass in his hands. "I, uh, just wanted some milk," he said, his shoulders rolling as he clearly fought the temptation to hunch down and make himself a small target.

"That's fine, go ahead," Chris said, purposefully turning his back on Isaac as he placed the platter on the counter and started separating some of the already cut meat into different containers. He listened as Isaac finished pouring a glass of milk and then almost silently edged from the kitchen.

"Thank you for having me over for dinner," Isaac said when he reached the doorway, his eyes darting up to look at Chris before he looked down at the floor again.

Chris nodded, knowing full well that the pack was the only family that Isaac had left. Isaac may have been living with the McCalls but Chris knew that was hardly the same as having his own family during the holidays. "It was my pleasure," he said finally. "Why don't you go see what the other kids are up to?"

Isaac bobbed his head with obvious relief and darted from the room with speed that belied his supernatural status.

Chris stood for a moment with his hands resting on the counter, staring at the half carved turkey as he fought the war of emotions in his head that tumbled through at the least expected of times. Put a crossbow in his hands and a threat in his sight and he was fine. Leave him in the presence of a wary werewolf teenager that he'd once tried to have killed, that he'd personally threatened to kill, and he was left falling down that hole of wondering how things had come apart so badly.

Between Melissa and the Sheriff, Chris had eventually learned the full story behind the murder of Mr. Lahey, and how it had been the Kanima's master who had determined who had been targeted and how Isaac had only attacked the Hunter who had been sent to kill him. How, for the most part, Isaac hadn't raised a hand in his own defense. Not until Chris, and Gerard, had labeled him as a target. Chris thought that might have been the trigger that sent his family down that final spiral, when they had declared one of Derek Hale's betas as marked for death, when Derek couldn't bear to lose another pack member at the hands of the Argent clan.

Chris shook his head and got back to work tearing the meat of the turkey from the bones, reminding himself that if Isaac could stand in his kitchen with the other wolves and act like Chris meant him no harm, then he could live up to that expectation. It was a wonder that it felt as natural as it did, inviting werewolves to dinner and not anticipating a disaster. What would his father say if he could see them now?

*****

"This is a surprise," Chris said dryly when he opened his front door to find Alex Markocev waiting with sickening smile and a bag slung over one shoulder.

Alex gave a one shouldered shrug. "I've heard much about Beacon Hills in the past year and I thought I should come see for myself."

Chris stood back to allow Alex into his home even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. His house still looked like the home of Hunters - at least to those who knew what to look for - there were some things that couldn't change, but Chris frantically thought over his home to see if there was anything that would give away that he frequently had werewolves as guests.

Alex set his bag down in the entry way and leaned in to clasp hands and draw Chris into an embrace. "I have heard of the terrible losses you have suffered. You have my deepest regrets."

Chris nodded stiffly and stepped back as soon as he was able. "And you have my thanks."

"I have also heard that they died in the face of battle, that they fought the beasts with their last breaths. It is commendable. And here, you carry on. We carry on, as we must," Alex continued as he stepped further into the house, leaving Chris to follow him. "The Argents have always held an honored place among the Hunters and you can be assured that their deaths have not gone unsung. Now, you must tell me of what has happened, how the beasts are now held at bay. And of your daughter. She is young to carry the legacy of the Argent clan but often those who are born in the fire shine brighter than we previously thought possible."

Chris watched as Alex took the seat behind the desk in the study and after a moment decided to seat himself as well. It unsettled him and he could let that show just a little because something would be wrong if Alex didn't unsettle him. It was the way of the Hunters, little power games to let each other know where they stood within the hierarchy. Chris launched into the carefully concocted lies that he had developed with the pack, all intended to make it appear as though the Hunters had the Hale Pack under control and that they had fallen into a time of peace. The lies would be received by the werewolf packs for what they were, lies to keep Hunters from tearing the town apart in a modern witch hunt, but if they could put on the appropriate show, maybe they could buy a reprieve from the eyes of the Hunters who saw the Code as a quaint guideline that was practiced by Hunters who didn't truly understand the danger.

"Dad?" Allison called as the front door fell shut and Chris realized that he had been talking with Alex for over an hour.

"In the study," Chris called as he stood. "Would you come to me?" he asked and was relieved when he heard the brief hesitation in her footsteps on the tile. That was all he'd needed to say to put her on guard.

Allison peered around the corner, her eyes narrowing when she saw Alex, but she moved to stand next to Chris and inclined her head ever so slightly. "My name is Allison Argent," she said with her stance subtly ready for combat.

"A fighter!" Alex said with an approving smile. "And I am Alex Markocev. I'm afraid I can't stay long, but I have already heard of your skills in battle. Your father tells me you are a warrior and a leader."

Allison glanced briefly at her father before looking up at Alex. "I do what's necessary."

"Allison, were you planning to sleep over at Lydia's tonight or tomorrow?" Chris asked, though there were no plans whatsoever. "I know this is last minute, but perhaps you should stay home so that you can talk more with Alex."

"We're supposed to be finishing our physics project, it's due tomorrow," Allison said, her lips pursing. "But I could call Lydia and see if we could finish later tonight over the phone or something."

"Don't cancel your plans on account of me," Alex said immediately. "I trust you're already looking at universities and I know your father can recommend many with strong Hunter ties."

Chris made a point of hesitating, waiting for Alex to nod his permission before he turned back to Allison. "Go on then, before you're late for dinner with the Martins," he said, grateful that had gone as smoothly as he'd hoped.

"I'll text you when I get there," Allison said, leaning up to kissing Chris on the cheek before she said goodbye to Alex and bounded from the room.

"She's young," Chris said by way of apology.

Alex waved him off. "No matter, she should be young while she has the opportunity. Also, she should socialize while she can; so many of our Hunters lack the skills to move in plain sight and it only becomes worse as time progresses."

Chris would think that Alex could use a little bit of work moving in plain sight, except for he'd seen Alex blend into a room of business executives without anyone batting an eye. Thirty minutes later his phone buzzed to let him know he had an incoming text message and he took a moment to read the message from Allison; _'At Lydia's with everyone, let me know if you need us to come back'_.

"She made it to her friend's house in time for dinner," Chris explained as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. It was a strange and heady feeling, to be part of a pack, and know all he had to do is say the word and rescue would be on the way.


End file.
